


The Attack

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: After being attacked by bigoted students, Blair decides to take self defense classes.  Unfortunately, though he learns to defend himself, he doesn't take the time to deal with the emotional impact of the attack and this leads to a serious conflict with Jim.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated PG for violence and language.   
> The story was written for SenseXangstRevisited.

The attack had been sudden and brutal. One minute Blair was walking out of his office in the basement of Hargrove Hall, juggling his book bag while humming a song, and the next he was laying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood while two young men screamed that he was a “Gay Jew” and kicked his body. Curling into a ball, Blair tried to protect his head as they viciously swiped blows at him.

Thankfully, the attack was interrupted. Still, the attackers had broken two of his ribs, split Blair’s lip open badly enough to need three stitches, and bruised his kidneys and stomach. They would have done even more damage but for a pair of security officers. They had been patrolling the halls, and hearing the shouted expletives, had come running, causing the students to run off.

It was the fourth such attack at Rainier in a month but, fortunately for Rainier and unfortunately for the attackers, one of the men had been recognized by the guards who came running down the hall. And in the rush to escape, one of the attackers had dropped a small book. Blair was taken to a hospital, his best friend and roommate, Detective Jim Ellison, meeting him there and watching over him as they checked Blair out. 

Jim was not allowed to be part of the investigation, his Captain, Simon Banks, knowing Jim would, if not kill, do serious damage to the young men who had hurt Blair. Instead, Simon Banks handed the case to Joel Taggart. Joel had an easy going personality and though he would overturn every rock to find who had hurt Blair, he would not be likely to step over the violence line when he caught the assailants.

The case was closed very quickly. The guard identified the attacker as a member of the Rainier wrestling team and, between that and the fingerprints on the dropped book, Joel was able to bring the two men in for questioning. Knowing Jim was brilliant when it came to interrogations (Joel and Simon knew Jim had been trained in the more subtle arts of interrogations during his Black Ops army days) Jim was allowed to do the interviews with Joel overseeing the interrogation in one room and Simon overseeing the other interrogation to ensure Jim didn’t cross over the line. In less than an hour, never once raising his voice, Jim had a confession from each student regarding the attack on Blair and admissions that they had attacked three other Rainier students. Later, over a drink and speculating on what Jim had been taught about interrogation, Simon and Joel would acknowledge that Jim had intimidating down to a fine art.

In due course, both assailants were convicted of four counts of assault with the added charge of hate crimes tacked on to their sentences, and would spend a good portion of their lives behind bars. Life at Rainier had gone back to normal. But in reality, it hadn’t.

Blair was careful that he didn’t speak his mind when Jim was about, but he constantly berated himself for not being better able to handle his attackers. Yes, he had survived, and yes, it had been a cowardly sneak attack from behind, and yes, both men were bigger, but he suspected Jim could have put the two men down. Or at the very least, seriously hurt the men. He doubted Jim Ellison, former Ranger and Black Ops Officer, would have curled up in a ball.

Blair had felt he had done a better job of defending himself when Lash had grabbed him. With Lash, he had put up a fight. It bothered Blair that he hadn’t been able to fend off the assailants and it seemed to the graduate student that the world would right itself if he learned to defend himself.

It started with a “night class” that Blair told Jim he was taking. Jim assumed it was an anthropology class and Blair didn't see a need to enlighten him as to the fact that the night class was a kickboxing class. But even this wasn’t enough for Blair. As he thought over the attack and how aggressive the assailants had been, he felt a need to be able to fight more aggressively. Moving forward, Blair found a Muay Thai and Krav Maga instructor and moved his class from one to two nights a week.

Within a couple of weeks Jim mentioned that Blair seemed a lot more toned, like he was working out, and Blair nodded saying something about the Rainier gym. 

Jim hoped Blair working out was a sign that he was getting over the attack but Jim knew Blair was having nightmares about it. He had tried to talk to Blair about the nightmares but the graduate student wouldn’t discuss the attack. Jim suggested seeing someone and Blair had scoffed saying he knew what a psychiatrist would say. With the dreams still haunting Blair, Jim suggested calling Naomi and meeting up with her for a short vacation, maybe even a retreat. But Blair again refused, actually becoming angry that Jim seemed to think he couldn’t handle things.

“You think I’m as weak mentally as I am physically,” Blair snarled and Jim blinked at the vicious statement. “Or is it that being a cop doesn’t make you hero enough. You have to protect your weak roommate.” Blair knew he was being unreasonable, knew Jim didn’t believe this, but for some reason he couldn’t stop the tirade of anger coming from his mouth.

“Chief?” Jim asked softly.

“I don’t need a psychiatrist and I don’t need my Mommy,” Blair answered and grabbing his keys headed out the door, slamming it for good measure.

The next day, after yet another restless night, Blair walked into the bullpen and looked around. Detectives H and Rafe were near Jim’s desk and Blair walked over. 

“Hey, Hairboy,” H called, reaching over to smack Blair’s arm. It was something that H usually did. It was an act of friendship. Not even thinking, Blair stepped back, readying a blow that would, without a doubt, send H to the hospital. But Jim seeing what was about to happen, quickly stepped between them, grabbing Blair's arm.

“Sandburg,” he said loudly, his voice firm. Blair blinked and looked at Jim and then at H realizing he was about to treat H as the enemy.

“Sorry,” he whispered softly, then smiled. “You took me by surprise.”

H looked over at Jim, his face showing concern, and then back at Blair with a smile that never reached his eyes. “Not a problem, Blair, sorry I startled you,” he stated, his voice sounding awkward to everyone before he and Rafe returned to their desks. 

Jim watched them walk away and then turned to his roommate. “You need help, Blair,” he whispered. “You are not acting normally.”

“I’m not going to discuss my behavior here, with you,” Blair spat out angrily and scooping up his backpack walked out of the bullpen, not even thinking about why he had come in.

Simon, having watched the incident from the doorway of his office, shook his head. “Jim, can I see you,” he called.

Simon moved back into his office and poured two mugs of coffee before indicating that Jim should close the door. “We need to talk about Blair,” he said quietly. “The kid needs help.”

“I know. He seems to be getting angrier and angrier,” Jim answered wearily. “I’ve tried to get him to talk to me, a therapist, even Naomi but whenever I suggest it, he gets insulted and tells me he is not some weakling.”

“This is not like him and he is going to hurt someone and get into trouble if he doesn’t stop.”

Jim nodded running a hand across his face and sighing. “Blair is suffering from PTSD, he just doesn’t realize it. I’ve seen it before in the army. Hell, I’ve even experienced it.”

“He has to get help.”

Jim nodded. “I’ll go home and talk to him. See if I can get through.”

“If not?” Simon asked.

“I’ll drag him to a therapist.”

Simon nodded. “Let me know if I can help him.”

Jim stood and left for home.

Pulling up in front of his door, Jim glanced up at the loft’s windows and wondered how he could get Blair to understand what was happening to him. Deciding that if he talked a bit about his experiences with the army he might get through to Blair, he headed into the apartment.

Blair was there, pacing back and forth. He looked over at Jim as the detective entered and stated with conviction, “Henri had no business touching me.” 

“It was a friendly tap. He does it all the time,” Jim answered hanging up jacket and gun and walking into the living room to face Blair.

“Did he ever stop to think, I might not like it, having him paw at me.”

“Blair, sit down a minute. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I have a class.” Blair grabbed his jacket off the sofa. 

“What class? How to kill someone? That was no defensive move I saw you make. It would have put H in the hospital.”

“You afraid you won’t feel all powerful because you don’t have some poor little weakling to take care of if I take these classes, Ellison?” Blair shot back, his voice more a sneer than anything else as he turned to leave.

“You need help, Chief,” Jim answered reaching out, a hand landing on Blair’s shoulder, trying to hold him back.

Later, with the help of a therapist, Blair would realize he had learned the maneuvers too quickly. He could fight but he had not internalized the discipline and self-confidence necessary to carry out the maneuvers with care and restraint and needed to lay some demons to rest before he could face a threatening situation objectively. Feeling Jim try and restrain him, he automatically turned and following through by rote on the maneuvers he had been practicing all week, knocked Jim’s arm off his shoulder and spinning to gain momentum slammed a foot into Jim’s stomach. 

Jim, who never thought his guide would attack him, was unprepared for the unprovoked assault and fell backwards, his head slamming into the metal wood burning stove with a crack before he crashed down to the floor.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion for Blair, as he watched Jim slam into the stove, his head hitting the metal pot belly before he fell unconscious to the floor. “Jim,” he screamed in horror and moved forward, reaching his friend and shaking him. “Jim, please, I’m sorry, please, are you okay?” he asked in a shaky voice as blood spread from a cut on the back of Jim’s head onto the tile that surrounded the stove. Reaching for the phone with trembling hands, he dialed 911 as he called to Jim. “Please Jim, wake up, I’m sorry,” he cried out, tears running down his cheeks as he cradled Jim’s head.

Within minutes, EMS and a patrol car arrived and putting Jim on a stretcher, the EMTs carried him out, Blair following them into the ambulance. The patrolmen tried to get a statement about what had happened but all Blair would say was call Simon Banks as he scrambled into the ambulance. 

At the hospital, after telling the doctors about Jim’s sensitivities to drugs and filling out paperwork, Blair was directed to the waiting room. He was sitting there, head in hands when Simon rushed in. Seeing Blair, he made a beeline for the graduate student.

“Sandburg, what happened?” he asked and Blair looked up at the Captain with red rimmed eyes.

“I put him in here, Simon,” he stated with shaky voice. “He was trying to talk to me, trying to tell me I needed help and…and I attacked him.”

The words were said in horror and Blair watched as Simon’s look of concern turned to shock, disappointment, and finally anger. But before Simon could say anything the doctor arrived. Blair stood at the doctor’s approach, practically shaking. “How is Jim,” he asked in a voice as shaky as his body.

“We stitched Mr. Ellison’s gash,” the doctor replied. “He has a concussion but he should be alright. We will keep him overnight for observation but he should go home tomorrow.”

“He’s awake?” Blair asked in a small, hopeful voice.

“Yes, he’s got quite the headache but he’s alert.”

“And his stomach?” Blair added softly.

“The xrays show no permanent damage. He’s very bruised but nothing that won’t heal on its own. We will be moving him to a room in a few minutes, then you can see him.”

Blair nodded sliding back down into a chair, his hands running nervously through his hair. “I did this,” he said more to himself than Simon. “And I said horrible things to him.”

“Then you can go up to his room and apologize,” Simon answered sternly, still not sure what had happened.

“You go. I can’t face him. He won’t want to see me, not after,” Blair waved a hand.

Simon knew better. He knew Jim cared more about the kid than anyone else in the world. If not brothers by blood, they were brothers by choice. Sentinel and Guide inextricably wound together. He would understand that the kid needed help, that he didn’t mean to attack, but there would be no convincing Blair of that and Simon was sure, if he let Blair out of his sight, the kid would be packed and gone by morning.

“You might be right,” he answered trying to sound extremely angry. “But Jim deserves a chance to dress you down and you are going to go up to his room and take your medicine.”

Blair looked up and nodded. “I guess I should,” he admitted. “I’ll go and apologize. If Jim wants to press charges I won’t dispute them.” 

Simon watched as Blair rose and walked to the nurse station and then toward the elevators. He would give Blair and Jim a few minutes alone then join them. By then, Jim would probably have blasted the kid and then hugged him. Glancing at his watch, he sat down.

Blair took the elevator up to the 8th floor and followed the directions to Jim’s room. Squaring his shoulders, he walked in and looked at the man resting on the bed. Jim looked pale, lines around his eyes and mouth indicating he was in some pain as he looked over at Blair.

Blair looked down too ashamed to look Jim in the eye as he took a tentative step into the room. “Jim,” Blair said softly, wiping at his eyes as he stepped further into the room. “I know you won’t forgive me, but I am so sorry, I can’t believe I hurt you. I’ll pack up and be out before you come home tomorrow. If…if you want to press charges, I’ll plead guilty.”

“Sandburg,” Jim said his voice tight. “Right now I feel like my head is going to explode. Let’s shelve the discussion of your leaving until I can think clearly.”

Blair, guide to a sentinel, looked up. “Where is your pain dial?” he asked with concern.

Jim shook his head and then moaned at the movement. “I can’t seem to set it.”

Stepping forward, Blair put a hand on Jim’s arm. “Okay, I need you to take a deep breath and hold it.” Jim couldn’t take a deep breath because his stomach muscles were so sore but he gave a very slight nod and taking a small breath closed his eyes, listening to Blair’s soothing voice. “As I count, bring the dial down: ten,” he said counting slowly, “nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three.” He stopped there. Pain was a body’s warning system so he wouldn’t bring the dial down further. “Better?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” He opened his eyes and looked at Blair, pinning him with his eyes. “Chief, I know you didn’t mean to attack me and I don’t want you to leave but you have to get help.”

“I am so sorry, Jim,” Blair began but Jim cut him off, indicating he should sit.

“There is nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself but you don’t want to maim or kill someone, Blair. That’s not you.” Sighing, Jim considered the graduate student as Blair took the seat beside the bed. “When I first got out of the army, I saw a therapist. I had been through some really difficult experiences and realized that I needed help to put them in perspective and behind me. Dr. Davison helped me. Chief, you’re suffering from PTSD. I could call Dr. Davison and set you up an appointment. You can’t go on like this, you’ll hurt yourself and someone else. ”

“I already have,” Blair whispered, a hand reaching out for Jim. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you.”

Jim took the offered hand in his own. “I’ll survive, there was no permanent damage. But I need to know you will too. Dr. Davison could help you. ”

“I’ll see your therapist,” Blair agreed, again wiping at his eyes with his free hand.

“And there’s no moving out,” Jim added and Blair nodded as Jim noted Simon coming down the hall and stopping hesitantly outside the door.

“Hi Simon,” Jim called and the Captain came in.

“How are you feeling Jim?”

“I have a bit of a headache but I’ll be fine.”

Simon glanced at Blair sitting silent, holding Jim’s hand. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I tripped over Blair’s books on the floor and fell into the wood burning stove. Poor Blair has been blaming himself for what happened.” Blair looked up in surprise about to complain but Jim squeezed his hand.

“That’s your official version.”

“It is.”

“Good,” Simon agreed glancing over the kid. “And I take it he’s going to get some help, cleaning up his mess.”

“Yes,” Blair agreed. “As soon as Jim comes home.”


End file.
